Katrina's Diary
by Sailor Centauri
Summary: Want to know how an 11 year old with a warped mind in the OZ wars thinks? Then read on...
1. Old Life Ends, New Life Begins

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters, but I do own Katrina Monroe, the fictional creation of mine who writes these diary entries.  
  
  
  
Entry 1, Day 1:  
  
I sat there alone, totally alone. No one was there to comfort me, no one was there to take me in his or her arms and tell me everything was going to be all right, no one. I don't know how long I was sitting there, cuddling my keepsake blanket, but it felt like an eternity. The only thing I had not lost that day, the only thing that was there for me to cuddle. If he hadn't have come, I think I would've given up, lay down and just let myself go with the wind. Fall into the pit of death, that as I sat there stung my eyes, and burnt my throat with its foul smelling fumes of noxious poison. He you ask, is the one who found me, found me huddled up by a piece of wall, the only part of my home still standing, clutching a burnt but otherwise intact blanket. He took me in, carried me shivering, crying, deep into a place of darkness, as if I hadn't seen enough of it.   
  
He took me to a room, small but comfortable, and totally safe from the prying eyes of the outside world, and it's tormenting sights of utter chaos and destruction. He says when I am better I can become someone, someone who can take back what I once enjoyed. I don't know though, he sounds out of his mind to me, but who else can I turn to? Who else would want a little 11 year old girl? I guess staying with him is my only option, but can I live with it? I am no killer, but he says I can be, with training and skill. He says you'll become one of just a select few who can cause 'them' to surrender and submit to final and eternal peace. But how, when 'they' only know war? When 'they' believe peace can be made through war? I don't know, but right now I'll just lie here and contemplate it, and try to accept that the might Shinigami has come and taken what is left of my true identity, taken the young innocent girl and left an empty, broken, soulless shell in her place.  
  
You may be wondering how a girl of only 11 can say things like this, how my knowledge and words are way beyond what I should be saying. Well, I guess you could say, when you become a soulless shell, with your humanity stripped away from you, you take things in a lot more willingly.  
  
  
  
  
  
Just a taster entry. R&R if you want to see more. 


	2. Who Am I Now?

Entry 2, Day 2:  
  
Weapons fire everywhere, screams of sorrow and complete darkness. Evil is lurking in every corner, clawing at me with its dark shadowy fingers, trying to pull me into the dark abyss that took everything else I held dear.   
  
I sit here now, bed sheets pulled up to my chin, sweat pouring down my face like a fast flowing waterfall. Death tried to take me, tried to take me again. How will I survive? Death is always there, yet I can't live with it, I am scared of it. Will I always be this frightened of the unknown? Will I able to take on the responsibilities of judge, jury and executioner? I don't know, my hand shakes as I write this, I am unable to control my own vivid and scrambled emotions as they plague me, forcing me to quarrel with myself. Forcing my mind to slip into extreme darkness and forcing me to become what I fear the most. I don't want to be a killer, I don't want to learn how to keep myself from death, but I haven't got a choice. If I don't, like my dream, death will call me, call me to follow into the darkness. I will follow, treading the path, allowing it to be the final stage of my journey.  
  
I can no longer write, I must stay calm, and sleep. But the fear of more darkness, the fear of reliving that nightmare scares me. How can I rest, when rest will not come to me? Not come to the living.  
  
  
  
Day 3, Entry 3:  
  
AHH!!! NOT AGAIN, NOT AGAIN!!! Once more I am plagued by the nightmare, the nightmare I try so hard not to think about, continues to plague me even now. WHY? WHY WON'T IT LEAVE ME ALONE??? I'm only a child, I don't have any idea how to cope with this, I don't have any idea how to cope with who I'm becoming. I tried my hand at unarmed combat just recently, and that hurt, hurt my body as well as my soul. Who'd have thought mentally it would hurt a lot more? No matter what my back says.   
  
I hate having the cold, fast running sweat making my face clammy and warm. I'm red, red as a tomato from warmth, my body reacting to the fear, the adrenalin that floods my body like a raging flood wiping out all who stand in its path. I feel it, even more then when I train. It fills me to the brink where I can't stand it anymore. How can I ever handle that? How can I handle the continuous surge that flows through me, if I get agitated at the slightest hint of fear? I am ashamed of myself. I used to think it was just a sugar high (laughs) the amount of those I was on as a child. Did I say that, am I really leaving that stage of me behind me in the dust? I guess I am, and like everything that gets left behind, you leave behind whatever you felt at that time. Memories mean nothing anyway, not if they plague you with sadness, depression, anger, regret. If I am ever to survive I have to forget them, and turn them into productive actions if I am to grow up. Yes, that feels right, channelling them, turning them into actions to release pent up tension. Maybe the dreams will go away, but from where I stand that is doubtful, they'll always haunt me, to remind me of where I'm going. Still (laughs more) I wish they were less of a pain.  
  
I end this entry with this note; if it's true that bad things happen to good people, I think that's how it goes, then I guess not all of those things are as bad as they seem.  
  
  
  
Day 4, Entry 4:  
  
I write steadier now after my dreams come to me, now I know they're pushing me forward, urging me towards my destiny. The irony shows doesn't it? I'm becoming what I hated the most. Oh well, if life acts in mysterious ways then this is one of its products. I guess I can't say much accept that fate has intervened. My brother always said we had our own calling in life and that one day I'd find mine. To think I thought it would be peace and helping people, boy talk about stupid.   
  
My back doesn't hurt that much now, not now I'm being careful when I move. The pain has passed to my arm now, why wouldn't it after being taught how to twist an enemies arm into a breaking position. Of course my arm isn't broken, but it feels like it. I guess they won't hurt a future killer if he or she is needed. I wonder how many others are living through what I am right now. If there are any I'm not being told, though they must be as willing as I am to go through it. Yes I said willing, I finally decided to swallow my pathetic weakness and fear and just go for it. Amazing how it took such a short time for me to start caring less, whether I do things or not. Whether I hurt someone or not, I guess that's what happens when your mind is set on avenging those you cared about. You lose all care in the world, you forget that life is a gift and just use it to do what you must. My opinion of destiny is that you make your own destiny and I'm making mine, by willingly taking on board what I am told. You have to learn to grow and evolve, and to reach your destiny you have to learn to. Learn what you'll need to know to make yourself who you are, and make yourself known. Hey I'm getting good, although I'm told making myself known won't be required that much.  
  
I don't understand that personally why not make yourself known? Why not make yourself a force to be reckoned with? That's the idea of making a name for yourself, as my brother also told me. Ok, maybe when you're going to become someone who's life is a continuous secret, and whose workings are also quiet and secretive, I guess you have to make yourself known without being known if you get my drift. I guess Kyle was right then, I will make a name for myself one day, just a name that isn't my own. A name that I'll be known by, a name that'll never connect itself with Katrina Monroe. 


	3. Time Will Tell

Day 5, Entry 5:  
  
Ouch, damn that hurts. I can barely write this stupid entry without my arm aching. As if it weren't enough having it ache and send surging pains through me, now it is bandaged, bandaged to stop my blood from flowing from my body like an unstoppable river. If anyone ever reads this, my only advice is never to use your first weapons training with knives.  
  
Now where was I? Oh yeah. Where does time go? Actually, how amazing is it how far you come in just under a week? Those are the questions I put to you, put to you to ask yourself. That's what I did. I have only been here a week, and yet I already feel as if I'm growing up, learning how to handle situations that wouldn't have normally plagued me till adult hood. Little lady is growing up fast, that's what everyone here says to me now, I hate most nicknames and sayings but that's not a bad complement, not bad at all I don't think. I'm getting off topic; damn it's so hard when that adrenalin rush hits you. You feel so powerful, and always ready to face off with someone, ready to fight till even death. Well, there's one lesson that sunk into my skin, seeping through to my heart, moulding itself to me forever. I'm told my training will get more soon, and a lot tougher, so these entries may not be continuous. I will be a qualified, efficient killer when the teaching ends, or so I've been told. So only time will tell will it not?  
  
I finish this entry with a note, that I will mark my progress, explain my weeks, months maybe more, detail only passed to a degree I feel is necessary. Of course don't expect it to get any better, for this girl it'll get a whole lot worse, but none of it will be directed onto me.  
  
  
  
  
I will start making these entries monthly ones when i put up the next set, so keep a look out for them. 


	4. Months Fly By

Sorry it's been a while since i updated these entries, i've had a few stashed away and was hoping to do more for my next chapter but since i'm still working on these, i'll put these three up for now. I have decided to make them longer as she gets older, and has less time to write, but they will become more detailed because of that.  
  
A month later: December 27th  
  
Strike quickly for it's the only way you can get them before they get you. Just a bit of advice to start of this entry. Been a while has it not? It's been well over a month now since I bothered to write in this practically blank book, blank like me, a canvas having a portrait painted onto it. I'm not doing so badly now, if you consider keeping myself from having knife wounds slashed on my arms not bad.   
  
I've been training a lot over the last month or so, learning to defend and attack and I think I'm getting pretty handy at hand to hand combat, but don't count me out of weapons just yet. The power is immense when you pick up a blade or a gun, you feel the urge to use it, and when I mean use it I don't mean to cut food with it, or shoot clay discs with it. I feel better for using a knife, it can't be easily taken without some injury being issued, but a gun not a bad weapon, little too heavy I think, yet I have been advised to carry one in the future. I'm learning how to dodge bullets, and knives being thrown at me to, standard I'm told. Now that may not sound like fun, but dodging something that could kill me if it hit, is actually quite fun. Morbid don't you think? Didn't seem appropriate to me just some time ago did it? Didn't seem to show the real me, but after all this time it's perfect. I swear my partners here are trying to think up a nickname for me, although so far the best I've heard is Dark Lady, that is so cartoon bad guy, but hey I'm coming close. A little longer I think, and I guess I'll be there, although for some reason I doubt Dark Lady will still be my calling card.  
  
That's the last for this entry, nothing much more exciting than what I've written, besides I have more training tomorrow, need my rest.  
  
A month later: January 23rd   
  
Blast it! Oh no sorry I wasn't cursing; well maybe I was just a little. I just saw the most amazing thing ever. It may sound morbid to some people, and if you're the faint hearted type I warn you now, do not read this particular entry.   
  
A month on from December, and about two months into my training, I'm given a video to watch, a video that shows the type of skills I need to become a trained soldier, killer whatever. Ok maybe I did feel a little weak myself, and I still do actually. The thought of taking someone's life by drawing a knife right across their jugular and spilling their life's blood, is pretty intimidating. I'm still feeling sick to my stomach, I'm still pretty weak, but I'm told that's normal. So for once I'm going to just right a calm entry and explain my last month, that video a little more, and possibly a few smaller things I've learned.  
  
The video itself was live taped, meaning someone actually taped a guy getting killed by someone else. Two things happened during the showing of this training video, the lighter half is someone asking for popcorn, the second is them having to pause it as I nearly fainted. After two months of what I've been through that was embarrassing. Finally I stomached the lot. The video showed a man grab a guy by his hair, yank his head back and draw the knife across his throat, and quite deeply at that. I can still hear the mans screams in my ears, and can still see his eyes fogging over as his blood trickled…no flowed from his body, turning him into a crimson stained corpse. It was then the whole thing set in; that is what I'd become, a cold, ruthless and careless creature. Reverting back to times long ago. I hate to say it to, but even though I still can't eat right now, for fear of being sick, I actually enjoyed it, the thrill and the adrenalin is still there in my blood. Who knows, maybe I'll kill that way someday to.  
  
Just to end on a lesson I learned, if you can't stomach something like that, you can't do your job right.  
  
Three months later: April 9th  
  
Ok, my updates haven't come as frequent as I promised, but truthfully I don't have time to write much anymore. My training is a whole lot tougher, and I learned I've got some competition, although I don't know where. Like I am really going to care less if I have.  
  
The last few months have gone perfectly, and I was right about what I said those months ago, about being able to kill someone like that to. If you check back you'll see I mean slitting someone's throat, you should see the damage I caused. But I have to admit, it was only a simulation, and watching it played back to me earlier, gave me the proud satisfaction that I can do my job without any help, but, yes there's a but. I still need to improve. They say I've come far and don't need to, but I snapped, I said I do. I watched it over and over again, the adrenalin building up inside me. Changing things here and there, timing, danger levels, fight levels, reality checks. I wanted it to be a simulation where I could learn perfectly. I don't know why they backed away from me; I was only trying to better myself. My one trainer said he saw more than a killer in me at that time, he saw death itself; it scared him. Another soldier told me I had such a hateful and poisonous look in my eyes, that I would only need to glare at someone and I'd have them begging for their lives. How true I want that to be, explains why I revel the story of Medusa the gorgon. Hey I read my history. I idolise her, a perfect killer. Although I don't think I want to die the same way.  
  
Thinking back to that time makes me wonder what my future holds, makes me wonder what things I can do to bring the ones who took my life away from me, down. Watch out OZ, for soon enough I'll be coming for you, all of you and if anyone dares to stand in my way, they'll rue the day they were born.  
  
R&R if you want to read the next few entries. 


End file.
